


Wee Hours

by yarnandtea



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drabble, FriendShip Week, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yarnandtea/pseuds/yarnandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James never can sleep after a battle. But at least he's not the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wee Hours

**Author's Note:**

> While I readily admit to enjoying the Vega/Cortez ship, I absolutely adore the friendship they have so clearly developed. I will take their friendship over a romance with them any day. So when the FriendShip Week was announced, I knew I would have to write something for these two. Here is my attempt. I think it will fit in nicely whether you ship them or not.

When he was younger, a raw recruit, still more than a little wet behind the ears, James had always imagined that sleep was a thing that would come easily at the end of a long and battle-fraught day. He certainly wasn't a recruit anymore, but sometimes he still wondered when that ability to sleep anywhere and go under at the drop of a hat would kick in. If he had been asked, which he hadn't, he would have said that he had definitely earned the right to that ability by now. But it still hadn't manifested. He was beginning to realize, with a sinking feeling in his gut whenever he thought about it, that such a talent might not be something one earned or developed through training. Some people had the knack. It was starting to look like he wasn't one of them.

So, as tired as he was, he found himself, at the end of a day that had brought its fair share of fighting, wide awake. He was weary, and tired down to his very bones, but just like every night after a battle, anything more than one or two restless hours of sleep eluded him. Tonight was no exception, and after waking (and then growling in frustration), he had resigned himself to more of the same. He had hopped in the shower, enjoying the privacy the off-hour afforded him. It was one benefit at least. Then he had padded over to the mess, not even bothering with shoes or a shirt, just pulling on a pair of sweatpants after toweling himself off.

Steve appeared not long after the almost-coffee had finished brewing. He seemed unsurprised to find James puttering around, cooking up the last of the fresh ingredients from their most recent visit to the Citadel, making _huevos rancheros_ at some god-awful hour of the morning.

"Still can't sleep after a fight, Mr. Vega?" He helped himself to a cup of coffee and gratefully accepted the plate James silently extended to him.

"No more than you can, Esteban," James answered with a wry smile. Steve returned it. It was a rare night that found only one of them unable to sleep. Steve could admit he suffered the same affliction as the younger soldier. Still...

"I can't recall doing any fighting this time around," Steve said, raising an eyebrow as he and James settled down at the table together to eat. James snorted before shoveling a bite of food in his mouth.

" _Someone_ had to fly our asses in an out of that hot zone," James said, rolling his eyes, "and I know you had the comms on, listening in case you were needed. Might as well have been in the thick of it, having to sit there and hear everything that went down. Hell, it's probably worse for you, since you can't actually do anything to help until we need the shuttle."

"You're not wrong about that," Steve reflected.

"Of course I'm not," James snorted again, flashing a cocky grin. "You need any help fixing up the Kodiak?" He asked after a few minutes had passed.

"I never say no to an extra pair of hands, Mr. Vega," Steve grinned.

They finished eating and refilled their cups before heading down to the shuttle bay. There were hours to fill before the new day began. It stood to reason to both of them that they might as well do something productive with the time. Sleep would come eventually, or death would. But either way, they'd finally get their rest.


End file.
